


Strain

by apolesen



Category: Star Trek - Various Authors, Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Cardassian election campaigns, Fluff, Glasses, M/M, The Crimson Shadow - Una McCormack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-16
Updated: 2018-11-16
Packaged: 2019-08-24 06:35:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16634822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/apolesen/pseuds/apolesen
Summary: Garak and Parmak discuss the election for castellan, respecting one’s elders and Garak’s tendency to hold books at arm’s length.





	Strain

Garak put his PADD down and rubbed his eyes. 

‘This is useless,’ he said. ‘I don’t need to know all these numbers.’ 

‘It’ll sound good,’ Parmak said. ‘All Temet will do is try to pull at people’s heart-strings. You need to show that you have facts on your side.’ 

Garak sighed, deeply. In response, Parmak put aside his book and crossed to the desk. He put his arms around his neck and rested his chin on the top of Garak’s head. 

‘Don’t get complacent. Temet is too great a threat for that.’ 

‘I know, I know,’ Garak muttered. ‘I just want to be complacent tonight. All these statistics are giving me a headache. Literally.’ 

‘I think you can call it a day.’ 

Garak closed his eyes and leaned back against him.

‘Do you want me to get you something for the headache?’ Parmak asked after a while. Garak shook his head, though he pinched the bridge of his nose. 

‘No need.’

Parmak let go of him and instead leaned against the desk so they faced each other. Garak sat back in his chair. Spotting the way his partner was looking at him, he sighed. 

‘Spit it out, Kelas.’ 

Parmak raised his eye-ridges. 

‘Whatever do you mean?’ 

‘You know exactly what I mean,’ Garak said. ‘You have a look you do whenever you’re about to bring something up.’ He had seen that look a lot recently, always followed by instructions to get more sleep, take regular breaks, have something to eat. 

‘You’ve complained about headaches rather a lot recently.’ 

The pain behind Garak’s forehead pressed against his eyes and made him wince.

‘Well, I’ve had quite a few things on my mind,’ he said. 

‘True,’ Parmak said, in a tone like there was something else coming. Garak felt a rush of worry. He reminded himself that he had had a thorough examination only last octad – a a necessary evil when running against a man half your age who kept bringing up that fact. The doctors had given him a clean bill of health, but he knew doctors could be wrong. 

‘Do you think they might have missed something?’ he asked. 

‘No,’ Parmak said. ‘I don’t think this is anything bad. But will you let me try something?’ 

‘Fine.’ 

Garak had expected him to touch him in some way, but instead, Parmak picked up a PADD. He scrolled through it until he found a block of text, then held it in front of Garak. 

‘What does it say?’ 

Garak reached for the PADD. Gently, Parmak pushed his hand away. 

‘Just read it,’ he said. 

‘You’re holding it too close.’ 

Parmak put it down. 

‘You’re suffering from eyestrain,’ he said. ‘Very likely brought on by presbyopia. Your eyes are ageing.’ 

Garak looked at him for a long moment. 

‘Nonsense.’ 

‘It’s not so odd, Elim. You’re seventy-six years old.’

‘I’m very well aware of that,’ Garak said impatiently. ‘Evek Temet enjoys pointing it out. When did age become something negative? When I was that young, we were taught to respect our elders.’ 

Parmak looked amused. 

‘Rather a lot has happened since then,’ he said. ‘But that’s another issue. You struggle to read text when it’s close. Whenever you read, you do this.’ He stretched his arms out as far as he could. 

‘I do not,’ Garak muttered. 

‘I swear, you do.’ 

Garak sighed, giving in. 

‘Fine. So what do I do about it? You can’t expect me to have eye surgery in the run-up to an election. It’ll look very bad.’ 

‘I’m not suggesting that,’ Parmak said. ‘I don’t think it’s bad enough for surgery. I’d expect reading glasses would do the trick.’ 

‘We’ll look absurd,’ Garak pointed out. ‘A couple of old, bespectacled philandrists playing at politics.’ 

Parmak laughed. 

‘In a few octads, you’re going to be the new castellan. We’re well past “playing at politics”.’ 

Garak put his head back and groaned. 

‘Don’t remind me.’ 

He heard Parmak move, then felt him take his hands. He raised them both and kissed them, one after the other. 

‘Enough politics and reading for tonight,’ he said. ‘Let’s go for a stroll in the garden.’ 

Garak straightened up. Even the suggestion made him feel more relaxed. 

‘Alright.’ 

He rose, his hands still resting in Parmak’s. They looked at each other. Parmak was the one to lean in and initiate the kiss. Garak kissed back. 

‘This will be a little harder if we both have glasses,’ he said against Parmak’s lips. 

‘You can take them off, you know.’ 

‘That’s assuming some forethought,’ Garak said. ‘All of half a second’s preparation.’ 

They laughed. 

‘You’ll just have to get used to it,’ Parmak said. He stepped even closer and, carefully, pressed a kiss on each eyelids. ‘I have no doubt that you will look even more stunning in glasses, and I will want to kiss you.’ 

Garak pressed his hand. 

‘Well,’ he said. ‘That almost makes it worth it.’


End file.
